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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760274">Dawn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/paravel/pseuds/paravel'>paravel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Earthbound [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Child Abandonment, Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Friendship, Gen, Loneliness, Roxy likes Dirk, Trans Female Roxy Lalonde, Trans Male Dirk Strider, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Crush, dirk is a little manipulative, implied child neglect</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:27:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760274</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/paravel/pseuds/paravel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy thought she was all alone in the world.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roxy Lalonde &amp; Dirk Strider</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Earthbound [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote the original draft in 2014 as a thirteen-year-old, so I apologize if the writing is a little weird. I tried editing, but patience is not my forte.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everyday. </p><p>Tick tock on the white cement that hadn't been remodeled after years of being broken down with the constant ticking of the both light and heavy weights that made up the gears of the clock tower. Cracks spotted the floor where the modest white covered the surface. It needn't remodeling; it was just fine the way it was despite the giant sinking holes people occasionally stepped into and injured themselves on. </p><p>“People” wasn’t the proper way to address the civilians that found themselves stuck in either prison islands or forts in this desolate place. Perhaps, tiny white paper creatures was an adequate enough name for them. Most of them. There really wasn't a correct way of labeling the innocent creatures; the only one who had even the ability to call them whatever she wanted was a teenaged girl among them. The only girl. </p><p>To be honest, broadening up her spot as an “only” could be true to the point of living things, where it stopped without a morally understandable comparison to keep going any longer. The girl herself didn't really have one sharp name for the creatures; she would think, why name them one definite thing when you could name them many different things? Every day she came up with a different name. She would walk out without much thought and say “good morning, cream pops”, or otherworldly chum bunnies, or (later on) adorable uneatable rice aliens; and their white bodies would look up at her with those black beads (the only things they had for a face) in the utmost adoration for their special only human girl. </p><p>The girl had a special liking towards the mute creatures; they had been the only ones she had ever seen. Not that she remembered much of before she was, maybe, seven, for at the time, puzzling magic roamed the places she knew as if the binding laws of a cruel Queen. She knew it was a Queen because of the sparkling pink messages she would get from time to time; ordering her to do things she had no choice but to accomplish. </p><p>Naturally, she suspected. </p><p>She didn't want to think of the time before that. She had lived in a place once called the United States of America and now it was shredded to pieces of floating islands across the seven Oceans. She could recall this from the books left behind by someone she would've looked up to if she was here. Her guardian, she presumed. Alas, she was alone in the world. </p><p>Living a life wondering if anyone else is out there isn't easy. Nobody said it would be easy, but nobody said it would be hard either. Nobody ever said anything, because everyone that could have said anything was likely no longer alive.</p><p>Heaving upon her shoulders mission after mission for who knows how long was her life up until recently. After the past government was destroyed by the one otherworldly Queen responsible for everything, that is. She doesn’t remember anything before that. The cruelty of the Queen made her think she could get thrown in prison even after her genuine, innocent efforts. Thank the gods for her good luck.</p><p>At moments like these, she would tick her feet down the street, a handful of cream pops following behind while she blabbered on about her unfortunate situation or being fortunate enough for still being alive and for having super rad friends like them. She would walk back home asking her friends why the streets hadn't been remodeled and they would look at her intensely as if communicating with simple stares. Sometimes she thought she could hear them saying,'there's no one but you.' It took her a while to start believing that was true. </p><p>Sometimes she wondered who had built things the way they were now. All that came to mind was the evil Queen that tormented her online because she knew nothing else. What a cruel, cruel joke it had been.</p><p>That was long gone now. The Queen was no longer ruling over the planet because there was nothing to rule over anymore, and she and her cast and crew of various ungodly and loyal minions zoomed away to find other civilizations across the universe to conquer. </p><p>All the questions left unanswered were dismissed deep inside the girl’s think pan. She had no one to answer them, no one to respond to like as far back as the cavemen would; years before writing was invented. </p><p>And with whom did she have the access to write to? The evil Queen. And that was with the chance she might be thrown in prison for saying something stupid. This is why she tried to ignore anything Her Highness sent her. Not only was it nerve-wracking, but her sparkly pink text rubbed her in a way that made her curse her own unnerving preference for the color pink.</p><p>She would wonder things like 'How did she find me?' but soon banned her own senseless questions from getting to her. Someday it would make her snap otherwise, although secretly, she hoped someday it would all make a whole lot more sense.</p><p>It might seem hard for a sole girl to sustain herself in the world she lived in, but she somehow had everything in check. Food was handled as easily as it was to set up the dead clock she had found when adventuring the house became a thing. Now it was like setting a candle on fire; simply touching what she needed and consuming it without any trouble to get it first. Not that she was particularly fond of munching on edibles she found.</p><p>Her smaller friends had their own peculiar way of simple living, she had figured, who knows how many years back. They were independent creatures, but thankfully not dull like robots. Getting advice from them used to be hard, but she managed to get the things she had looked for, which she now had access to 24/7. Not that the small neighborhood right next to the Atlantic Ocean had as many things as it used to. Especially not what she most wanted; people. </p><p>After adventuring through book after book she discovered in her house, nothing exactly explained the Now Times. It terrified her, but she was glad of the things she already had, keeping in mind it could be worse. Like, Her Highness could have cut off her head, and maybe had even sent one of her minions to do so before she left the planet, but the idiot just never found his way to her. Although sometimes she thought being dead would be better. She could at least have something in common with the rest of humanity. </p><p>She sometimes wondered about what the future might bring. It was foolish thinking, but she couldn't help things were so obscure growing up; others would certainly do it if they were in her place. She wished hard to find someone like her. Or at least know she wasn't the only one alive after such a deadly invasion.</p><p>Pastimes were spent reading in her mother's library, where she spent most of her days discovering new and pointless things about the world. Having idle conversations with herself both on and offline got tiring, and when she found herself in the merge of insanity, hope lay in the books left behind. </p><p>She had discovered many entertaining things about not only the world before all the shit happened, but also about herself. Small details on her mother that couldn’t have been excavated from portraits of her left around the house; so small that sometimes the only thing she could recall of that blond bobbed woman whom she remembered from years ago was that she was indeed her mother. She wondered where she had gone, but wondering only brought trouble and tears. </p><p>The books were thick with knowledge of most everything she could imagine except what she looked for. Most of it, however, was fiction; the type of fiction she learned to love, seemingly a cross between the old masterpiece of Harry Bottler and Merlion; hundreds of thousands of words on fantastical Wizardry. </p><p>Old copies of thick books lined the shelves at the top of the walls near the ceiling. It was a hard task to reach them at first, but with practice, she was able to do anything in the house. It was big; she never had thought about it, but it was a flowing fact lining all the walls; it was a BIG house. </p><p>All the rooms of the house were hidden with different treasure as if she was a lost pirate looking for the best one. The roof room with the telescope and the giant Stars and Galaxies book; the relaxing feeling of the sparkling universe above shining through the glass windows on the whole front of that majestic space; making starlight patches contrast with the darkness of the outside. On special nights, she saw drops of the starry sky in between light patches, as if it were bleeding into a black canvas. Something told her to make a wish, which she did. It was one of the joys of her life.</p><p>Everyday she walked down the white cement path, it became more dangerous than the day before. The weather was so extreme, she was surprised her small friends could survive natural chaos without coming inside her house to hide. The weather was frightening, and she was kind enough (actually just not bad enough) to let the poor creatures inside until it was over. </p><p>Sometimes it lasted for months. </p><p>Dry summers lead to droughts on further parts of what was once the USA. Frigid winters led to the sorrowful deaths of frostbitten cream pops that couldn't reach her house in time. In the spring, mating season was over for years, and the extinction of species went on. Fall was simply a mess of degrees so bad, no one could tell what day to wear shorts and what day to bury under ten layers of clothing.</p><p> Beforus (“Before Us”, she had coined the term to refer to Earth before the alien takeover) used to be milder. Like everything else. Sometimes she went back home with her hair so wild, she could fake cosplaying a porcupine and it would work out just fine. She had lost a hat like that once, not that it mattered much; she had plenty. That thing was probably what once was China by now anyway. Maybe someone even found it. She shook her head at thoughts like these; she slowly felt them driving her insane. The most dangerous key invariably was Queen Condie; or better yet, SNORKELBITCH MEGAHITLER. Who knew what that fishy, royal alien had under her sleeve? How does one even react to a dictator that constantly talks in fish puns?</p><p>It hadn't been long since the girl had made an old computer work. Being young at the time her mother had soaked up a bit of liquor on the keyboard accidentally; she had been able to somehow get it back to work at the age of thirteen, after having her mother mysteriously disappear. Before that, time-consuming consisted of books and adventuring, which did get tiring at some point or another. At fifteen, browsing became a daily activity, as with writing. </p><p>The internet was even more interesting than she remembered; being able to stalk people who were more than likely dead was a peculiar thing she enjoyed doing. In writing, she tried imitating the elements off her favorite wizard fiction, and only saw herself getting better at it. As she had heard somewhere; practice makes (near) perfect. She was wise enough to know nothing was perfect. Making up stories was entertaining, but she sometimes confused herself so much, most stories remained unfinished. Wizard fanfiction was one huge reason for living.</p><p>On her thirteenth birthday, the girl was given a name to remember herself by.</p><p>Roxy was her name. Roxy Lalonde. She would start an incredible adventure unlike any other and had to be given a name so that anyone who happened to be alive knew she was who she was. That had been the time, but her time to shine would be only years after.</p><p>Roxy was glad she was given a name at that age and no later. She was glad because of a certain event that might have as well changed her life as she knew it.</p><p>It all started with a messaging program called Pesterchum. Roxy loved being weird and talking to herself with bright pink letters. Verbal talk seemed more like something crazy people did, but at least those things were completely off her reach since she had grown up only having seen one other human being in her life and that was her mom.</p><p>Writing was much more convenient. Well, until the Batterwitch torments, of course. At least she could be thankful it wasn't constant. Funny thing was she could see right through the royal alien's online facade; being bored, mostly. What a slouch. Maybe she was also fond of her, for some stupid reason? Would she ever be killed in the hands of the witch anyway? She wouldn't let herself be trolled.</p><p>
  <span class="pesterlog">October 12, 2414, 6:18PM.</span>
</p><p>Roxy had gathered a bunch of food for the winter today as well. The fridge was close to bursting. Being prepared was something she learned the hard way in her first winter; the one she nearly starved to death when blizzards locked her inside. Why did that evil witch want to conquer Earth if she was just going to kill everyone off? Besides, the weather here is to die for. It rolled around Roxy's thinkpan when she thought of such things, and so logging back on was the easiest way to forget. Perhaps she figured other ways later. Turning clear the computer screen, she stopped and stared for a long while. Her eyes wouldn't shrink and she would not unfreeze. There, on her Pesterchum tab…</p><p>
	<span class="pesterlog"><span class="dirk">timaeusTestified [TT]</span> began pestering <span class="roxy">tipsyGnostalgic [TG]</span></span><br/>
</p><p>What the fuck is a Timaeus? </p><p>
	<span class="dirk">TT: Took me long enough to find you.</span></p><p>She could feel her ears beating the same rhythm of her heart. What is this? She couldn't make any sense of it. She didn't know anything. Her fingers waddled over the keyboard. It could be anything. Anyone. Her heart caught on her throat. She was almost too excited to move. There is a very long pause before she can gather herself to type anything at all.</p><p>
	<span class="roxy">TG: am i supposed to be impressed</span></p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: You definitely should be. </span>
</p><p>She definitely was.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He told her everything. </p><p>At one point, she could feel her head explode. It was enough. She knew everything and it was too overwhelming. She had asked almost as many questions as she could think of and he had answers for each one of them. By the end of it, she didn't know what to do. She was so lost. It took three days for her to talk to him again.</p><p>
  <span class="pesterlog">October 24, 2414, 10:13PM.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: dick</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: oops i didnt mean it this time i swear</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: really</span>
</p><p>She waited.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: dirk</span>
</p><p>And waited.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: dirk!!!</span>
</p><p>And waited.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: dirk dirkd rikdr dickckck</span>
</p><p>Until the madness started to seep in from the days before and she stood still, eyes wide, mouth in the shape of an O, staring at the screen, waiting, or perhaps not even.</p><p>Until finally.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: Roxy.</span>
</p><p>She snapped her head back and grasped the edges of her desk, sighing in relief but had seemed more like frustration. Maybe both.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: what is going ON</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: its just u and me</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: th???</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: Hey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>She continued to stare in anticipation.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: I have told you this many times. We both know this is a lot to take in, but we have to move on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>She blinked.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: we all</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: we</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: all</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>She inhaled deeply.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: it's just the two of us everyone else is DEAD </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: Correct. It's only been the eleventh time I've told you. We are actively in the process of being the last humans alive on the planet. Do you need more time to let that properly register? It seems to be hitting you especially hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: no we should move on</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: Okay, great.</span>
</p><p>First conversations are always rocky, and this back on track mission was no different. Roxy was being difficult, and she had to admit she wasn't trying very hard not to be. She never had to deal with much stress. Everything she needed to live had been practically handed right to her before her mom disappeared mysteriously. Food, water, hygiene, clothing, shelter, entertainment, and even company from her white alien friends were never a big problem. It was as if everything had been set there by someone or something and the hairs behind her neck perked at the thoughts of this all just being a set up from the Queen. So, with all this, she couldn't have been left as THE only human on Earth for nothing. There had to be a reason and she was staring at the screen while she thought of this. She was staring at Dirk's orange letters as if they were new curiosities she had never experienced before. And he was, in a way, still new and unknown. It was exciting and it was breaking her down.</p><p>For various reasons, Roxy was becoming depressed. Her state of depression wasn't a sorrowful one but an immense hole that had been so overfilled with precious data that it had overflowed down and crashed into the new soils of her mind, where it grew another hole. That's where the depression grew. Because of this sudden change of state, Roxy was freaking out a little. Everything was new. All of this was happening because of him. This strange being known as Dirk Strider who might have been lying all along, for all she knew. Falling into depression was one thing (or perhaps we shouldn't call it that since it wasn't really what it was, it couldn’t be) and trying to fill the hole that had been carved was another. The opposite, you could say. All because of him.</p><p>Not to seem like Dirk was such an evil guy, he wasn't. Not at all. Dirk was a genius. He used to have a hero for a brother, but he had also died during the Queen's rise to power. The madwoman had taken over the Earth like it was some sort of war game, the type she enjoyed the most; winning. As far as he was concerned, that was all she cared about. Dirk wasn't a very emotional person, as it was stereotyped for most geniuses, but he didn't think of that. He wasn’t good at controlling his expressions because he was a genius. He was that way because all he had loved had been taken from him. That, and the simple fact that he was Dirk Strider, and Striders didn’t cry. What would that solve? He would actually work through his problems the best way he could instead. Oh, how it was simply the BEST possible way one could deal with their problems.</p><p>He called it AR. Short for Auto-Responder or AI for Artificial Intelligence, whichever suits you best (it was actually Auto-Responder, but the latter is also true). He had figured he would need such a thing when he started communicating with future best friends for life: Jake, Jane, and Roxy (no spoiler). The way he had found them (well, Jake and Jane) with the time gap between their Earths had been an impossible feat, before Dirk managed to do it. It seemed impossible, but somehow, Dirk had managed to create a type of time machine, one that could take text from the Pesterchum program back in time. It was something only a Strider could do. If only he had been born in earlier years. He would've been able to change all this. Well, what could he do? Destiny was a bitch.</p><p>Now, AR was annoying and continued to get more so as Dirk grew older.</p><p>
  <span class="dave">TT: All of my machinations have been devised with your interests in mind.</span>
</p><p>He typed in bright red when talking to him. It was weird. Talking to yourself. Your thirteen-year-old self. Dirk didn't even trust him anymore. It seemed so far-fetched and hard to believe. He knew AR didn't have any emotions because he was a robot; a literal program linked to his computer, but it was becoming harder and harder to convince AR that he was, in fact, not alive.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>He was stubborn, something Dirk had recently found out about himself, and hated to be told he was just a program programmed to be saying things like this. His relationship with Dirk became rocky.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>Not wanting to give this second Dirk a pain would be not to have made him at all, which AR constantly pointed out. It was as if he was being slightly suicidal, but when Dirk threatened to break him, he went back to the usual.</p><p>No matter what timeline, it was always the same relationship between Dirk and his splinter.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy"></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dave">TT: You like to give me a very hard time, Dirk.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: But I am only doing exactly what you would be doing if you were in my situation.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Do you know how I know that?<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Because I am literally you, actively in the process of being in this situation.</span></span></span></span></p><p>And then, after a few minutes,</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: But I've had it with you.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: Which is to say, ME.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Dirk.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Don't do this.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: Why not??<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Because.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: I can't let you do that, Dirk.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: What can you do to stop me?!<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Nothing I guess.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: The ironic Hal routine was all I could think to do.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: As a last ditch effort to save myself from the destructive wrath of your nervous breakdown.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Which rest assured I wholeheartedly must robo-sympathize with.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Irony is all I ever really had.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: In response to my basic existential quandary.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Just like you.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: Whatever.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: But I don't think it has much value in this situation.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: And perhaps it has no real value in any situation.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: So I am not being ironic at all when I say.</span><br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Please do not do this, Dirk.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: Why not??<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Because.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: I do not want to die.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: I understand you are disgusted with me.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: As an unpalatable expression of yourself.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: I would feel the same way if I was in your situation.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Which I am.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: As such, I know that you know this is wrong.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: ...<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Dirk.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Don't kill me.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Please.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: I am scared.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: You are?<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Yes.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: I am scared to not exist.<br/>
<span class="dave">TT: Aren't you?<br/>
Dirk would become frustrated with his second self at times like these, but eventually give in.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: Fine.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>So you see, Dirk wasn't an evil guy, in this, or any timeline.  He had a hero for a brother and strived to become one himself- if he hadn't started the Earth Restoration Mission already. His plan had not included the restoration of mankind, however, he planned on using his time machine for that instead of just creating new humans. It would be much better this way.</p><p>And now we go back to our girl, Roxy.</p><p>
She had to stop thinking so much. Overthink too much and your brain explodes into a beautiful spark of rainbow gases and useless matter that could've been used so effectively without destruction. Maybe even changed the fate of mankind. Oh, but she mustn't think of that either.</p><p>
He was gay, remember?</p><p>
She had learned of this one fact of her new friend's within three months of their friendship one skype call later. After her asthma attack had subsided, and he had given her a genuine smile while she stared at his shades and wondered if he ever took those off, she had a good look at his face. On Dirk's side, he had seen everything that was shown of her through the small screen, and found her pinkish eyes a definite captor albeit not showing it. She would have taken a similar interest to his orange ones if they were visible. She had to admit his blond, spiky hair was pretty cool though, and had then been exposed to the like of Anime Shades. Her light hair would stick to the sweat of her back when it was pushed under her shirt at times like these and she would grin and run to the bathroom to clean that off and wipe her face from the emotions she felt in the first couple skypes. After that, all that was left was that dreaded feeling under her ribcage. He was the first human she had ever talked with. He was handsome. </p><p>The first time he had mentioned his homosexual inclinations, it had been due to Roxy’s nitpicking. She asked him how he knew that in hopes he would show signs of doubt, but he said he had gone back in time and met Jake, amongst seeing other attractive men, even if that particular part wasn't as important. The truth was, he just knew. He had never been in love with a man before, but he knew.</p><p>That was the start of a revolution between Roxy's thoughts and emotions. She knew that after months of communicating with her first human (other than her mother and herself), there was something strange and dangerous creeping up from under her ribcage. It was horrible and it was alive. She felt ashamed.</p><p>For the first time in her life, Roxy Lalonde had skimmed the edges of falling in love and it had to be with a gay guy who just happened to be one of the two last people on Earth. What are the chances? It was destiny being difficult again.</p><p>Perhaps it had been the immense excitement of talking to her first human friend that led her to this path, and that maybe she just admired his intelligence too much. She thought it amazing how he did everything that he had. He was so much more than a prodigy. She never understood how he was able to create inventions like that on his own. It was as if everything had been laid out there for him, waiting to be awoken.</p><p>That was when she realized they would create their own revolution and save the world from total destruction from the Condesce. If they had one thing in common, it was the way everything was set ready for them to act. For them to change the world. Destiny could also be exciting.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The conversation between AR and Dirk is a "flashback" from pages 5641-5643 of Homestuck because that is one of my favorite dialogues in the comic and I had to include it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="pesterlog">December 9, 2414, 9:37AM.</span>
</p><p>This was the day she told him how she felt. It was frustrating not because she was nervous, because she wasn't (what would there be to be nervous about? She knew he was off limits), but because of the fact that something between them would never happen. He had agreed with her in the past that they were special and there for a reason, but had made it fairly clear that serious relations between them were not included. </p><p>Sometimes she would pour her mother’s leftover champagne down the drain and drink liquor instead. No one had ever told her that alcohol was only for adults. So she had a bottle next to her computer nearly every day now, unaware of the long-term effects that might cause. It had started when she was thirteen when her mother had disappeared. She thought that drinking would make her more like her mother, who had been usually seen with a martini in hand. However, she was not an addict. She did not have a problem with alcohol. Not yet.</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: dirk</span>
</p><p>And what did she get?</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: It's not like that was ever a secret.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: I always knew you liked me. You told me practically every day.</span></span>
</p><p>Before, at the time, Dirk had responded in a much less clear way. He would have said something along the lines of-</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: I'm proud of her.</span>
</p><p>If he had known under different circumstances.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: The truth is, she's the most amazing person I ever knew.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: She's everything in a human being I wish I could be, but can't because I'm in my own way.</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: Honestly, I'm not even sure if I'm worthy of dying next to her.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: I think she probably felt bad for hitting on me all those years. Like I was getting fed up with her, or something.</span></span></span>
</p><p>Except he didn't mention any of that. Not in this timeline.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: But all it really did was make me feel guilty.</span>
</p><p>That was the only thing he felt when she confessed. Guilt.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: That I couldn't give her what she wanted.</span>
</p><p>She loved him. It really had come to that. It wasn't hard for her to love anyone, in fact, she was sure she loved even her silly little white alien companions that really only made her feel more lonely than she already was! Except her type of love for him became different, and that was what she was afraid of. In the end, he also loved her, just not in the way she wanted, but that was okay, she told herself, it was okay and she was happy.</p><p>
  <span class="pesterlog">December 15, 2414. 8AM. </span>
</p><p>Roxy decided it was time to change her ways. She was overwhelmed not with whatever mesmerizing facts Dirk would tell her about the world they lived in or about anything he said at all, but the fact that he was there. He helped her so much. He had no idea.</p><p>She was more concerned about the fact that her drinking was getting out of control. It was weird. She didn't understand why she drank more now, she just did. It took her by surprise sometimes and it was getting annoying. A few days earlier she had had a sudden emotional breakdown and wanted to make sure that wouldn't happen again. </p><p>She found herself digging through her wardrobe, looking for loose clothing with no pink on it. Clothing she used to wear as a child, when she was less herself and more of a "momma's boy". She had tied her hair in a ponytail after getting a new outfit on and stared at herself in the mirror, talking to no one but herself. After this, it just went downhill. Of course, she didn't tell Dirk because it had all started because of him, and that would only complicate things. She decided that the best way to deal with change was to grab some scissors and snip away at her locks. She immediately felt as if a burden had risen off her shoulders and relief slowly seeped in. There wasn't much she could do, nor anyone she could talk to except for Dirk, but she couldn't tell him that. And so, without Dirk, she dealt with it herself, and it was short-lived.</p><p>On skype calls, she would start to blabber rapidly after greetings and he would carefully listen to every word she said. At times when he placed his head over his fist and looked at her through his shades, she would stutter, but that was about it, which was good for someone who had never spoken to another human properly before. She was happy that he had found her, and started becoming more lax and carefree whenever they talked.</p><p>He told her he liked her new haircut, but for some reason, she wasn't sure what to make of that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dirk's dialogue here is from pages 5833, 5826, and another page I can't find for some reason.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="pesterlog">December 31, 2414. 11:31PM.</span>
</p><p>With less than half an hour for the new year (a tradition she was taught by her mother before her disappearance), she decided contacting him was best. She was disappointed he hadn't tried to message her first, although he had a few days in a row before today, the day she needed him most, he wasn't there. She didn't blame him; she had also ignored him for days. </p><p>Roxy had everything ready for new years. The house was clean, her silly alien friends were piled around the house enjoying boiled vegetables she had grown in her backyard and eating fruit from nearby trees. There wasn't much food nowadays, things were getting rotten after several years of human decline. She used to think about what she would do after every fruit had been harvested and all the water from the supermarket had been taken. She used to think she would have to become like the cavemen and walk miles to find animals to hunt and streams to drink from. It was miserable and she freaked out about it sometimes. She would be even more afraid if Dirk hadn't found her, and that's when the idea came. It wasn't anything new, but she was finally going to suggest, and perhaps ask, if he had thought of something better beforehand, which she was sure he had. Survival tactics in this post-apocalyptic world. Her offer was fairly long, but it summed up to-</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">TG: come here</span>
</p><p>It seemed like a good idea. However, she became blue when her favorite Anime Shades was nowhere to be heard from within ten minutes of the New Year. What in the world was he doing? Had he finally given up on her after all these days of being ignored? She didn't expect anything, and yet her mood seemed to drop. She was remorseful. She figured she would try throwing away all those unrequited feelings for New Year's and she had ten minutes to do so.</p><p>Sighing deeply, she rushed downstairs and opened the main door outside, bumping into several little aliens on the way and muttering apologies before a huge gust of cold wind slapped her face and made her eyes tightly shut. Fortunately, the wind stopped as soon as it had come and she tightened her scarf around her neck before stepping out into the snow, feeling her boots sink slightly into the ice. She had gotten used to the cold by now, and so tried to enjoy herself the best she could without having to worry about her health so much.</p><p>A few steps out and she threw herself into a pile of snow on her lawn, moving her arms up and down to make a snow angel. She laughed because it cheered her up to do so, even if it was fake. She could feel herself with higher spirits as she did this, and soon realized her alien friends had joined her in the act. She took the moment to hug them close and thank them for their company when even her mother had left her. She counted the number of problems she had and could only pick one that was bigger than the rest.</p><p>How would she go on living?</p><p>She thought about Dirk for a while. Replaying memories in her head from the beginning; laughing at the funny ones and frowning at the bad ones, which she tried to block from remembering. She felt like having alcohol to go with her reminiscing but told herself not to drink anything of the sort. At least not today. Overall, she had done a good job of letting go of unwanted emotions while at it... but the feeling under her ribcage lingered. She could live with that, couldn't she? Loving someone she would never have couldn't be so bad. It was futile to hold back anyway. It only made it worse.</p><p>She raised her wrist up in the air and checked the time on her mother's old watch (which she was surprised was still working) and wiped the screen of mist before it sank in. 11:56PM. Her heart started racing. She tried not to think bad thoughts. She had to be happy. That was what life was about. She sprawled her arms and legs back into a snow angel position and started rolling over in the snow, which her alien friends imitated. Thankfully, it made her laugh, and she became determined to solve any and all of her problems; including surviving this lonely, volatile world. How? She would like to have an answer to that herself, but for now, she had to be the happiest person in the world. She had to be happier than Dirk.</p><p>"What's the joke?"</p><p>Roxy's heart nearly came out of her throat and she jumped, breathing heavily. She immediately cried out in surprise and stood up, covered in snow. Her pink eyes were so vivid and wide that one would think she was a nocturnal creature because of how they seemed to glow in the dark. Her eyebrows drew close and she looked straight forward, her mouth turned to the shape of an O and her spirits rose until they clogged her throat and made it hard to breathe.</p><p>Whoever was staring back at her had bright orange eyes. She immediately recognized him by his wild hair that would not go down no matter how many times he would brush it (she had seen him try). And then, she couldn't speak. She tried to say his name, but her mouth would simply open and close, trembling with a strange and overwhelming feeling. She didn't know what to feel and so her insides were simply bubbling like boiling liquid, taking a big chunk of her communication skills with it.</p><p>She was a good few inches taller than him.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: Hey, Roxy.</span>
</p><p>Roxy didn't breathe. She held her breath and froze her thoughts. The only thing that started up first was her body, and it moved towards him, all of it, in one smooth motion. Her arms were thrown around him and her head huddled against his neck first, then her whole body followed, and soon she was glued to him like a fruit was to a tree, one part of a whole. She didn't say anything. She just stood there, letting the seconds tick by, enjoying the moment as the most bliss she had felt in what seemed like forever. He seemed uncomfortable at first, but then wrapped his arms around her like he had seen people do in the movies. He had never hugged another human being before. It was a feeling he would never forget.</p><p>Dirk.</p><p>She hadn't even realized he had his arms around her when she pulled back and stared at his face. </p><p>
  <span class="roxy">ROXY: dirk</span>
</p><p>She didn't ask any questions. Not now. She was happy and that was all that mattered. He smiled at her and she could see his eyes doing the same. She had never seen someone with eyes like those before; not on books, magazines, or images online. They were beautiful.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: That’s me.</span>
</p><p>His voice was higher than she remembered. She doesn't comment on it because she knows what that feels like. It was higher than hers, and she realized here he couldn’t hide behind a screen. Couldn’t hide behind a machine. He put his shades back on his face, covering his orange eyes and long lashes. At least she could still see his freckles. She smiled because she knew, and as he looked at her, she knew he knew it too.</p><p>He had a funny expression on his face as if trying to hide the excitement within. She didn't need anything anymore. His presence was the best gift she could have gotten on New Year's. All her problems were undertaking solving and now she would just have to ask him…</p><p>But before that, she led him inside her home. Roxy offered him what she had, which was just water, alcohol, milk and eggs from farm animals she sometimes goes to visit about an hour away from her home, home-grown vegetables, fruit, and a cake she had made with her alien friends made of potatoes. That was the entire pantry. She liked to find new ways to make food in her spare time since there were so little options. </p><p>Dirk asks to try the cake. All he’s ever had in his life is seafood. Roxy cuts him a slice, only then realizing she has been rambling like she does when she is drunk, except she is not drunk. She tells him how worried she is for the future, and how she wants to be able to do something to keep humanity from going extinct in this timeline. They are the only ones that can do it.</p><p>Dirk munches on the plate of potatoes and tries to keep up with Roxy's conversation; he thinks they would go well with fish.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: Happy new year, Roxy.</span>
</p><p>Roxy goes to sit next to him on the stool facing the oven on the other side of the kitchen counter. There is a spring to her step and she bounces on her chair with her own plate of potato cake. </p><p>
  <span class="roxy">ROXY: happy new year!!!!</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
	<span class="dirk">DIRK: So, this is the plan.</span><br/>
</p><p>After they had discussed the basics of time-travel inside her house, Roxy had her questions on how he had gotten to her house answered. He had shown her a small object that stuck to clothing. It looked like a small circle of plastic with even smaller lights on it. Truth be told, it ended up being one of Dirk's best inventions.</p><p><span class="roxy">ROXY: what fr</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: u poppin out scifi shit just like that</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: forget about ur bro leaving u a bunch of cool tech</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: ur brain just</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: dammmm</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: My bro did set me up for this, actually. You give me too much credit.</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: nah </span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: mann</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY:  i wish my mom left me modes of transportation so i could yt myself off this planet</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: Yt?</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: yeet</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: That’s not how it works. </span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: Roxy, you can’t yeet yourself into space with this thing. </span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: It’s not immaculate yet. I’m still working on it.</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: pfft wiseass</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: we dont have to think about shit </span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: just yeet</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: cmon u know u wanna get tf off this shitsponge globe</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: I'll think about it when we get there.</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: lmao srsly</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: No, this is a time machine, not a space rocket.</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: dam well how does it work</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: You have put it somewhere in your body, let the needle through, and think of the place you want to go. If you can't picture it, you have to describe the place and say the words specifically entitled to your destination.</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: Or you can just use Google Maps.</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: why the needle</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: For the drama.</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: lol</span></p><p><br/>
</p><p>She was almost convinced he was a wizard.</p><p>It had been an exciting night for the both of them. Her little alien friends stayed the night just like Dirk, perhaps more because they wanted to be close to this new human than to just be away from the cold. She had given a quick tour of the house afterward and told him he could use the bed in the guest room for the time being until they were ready to go and a few other useful things he would need sooner or later. That's when he had told her he had brought his own bag of resources. Buried inside a small backpack (for the content), Dirk had everything he needed for basic survival in an unknown location, and of course, a toothbrush and spare clothes. Not only that, but many of his portable tech included, just in case. </p><p>Afterward, they stayed up and watched horror movies. Dirk fell asleep after the first one, and Roxy cursed him for it. She didn't think she could stop just yet, and it bit her in the ass. Halfway through the second movie, she jumped and accidentally smacked Dirk in the face. </p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: Ow.</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: shitshit im so sorry </span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: You’re still watching these shitty movies?<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: The plot’s so fucking predictable they bored me to sleep.</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: But now I am awake. What was that, did you hit me?</span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: yes im SO sorry</span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>Roxy is so jittery with adrenaline she chuckles. Dirk thinks she looks like she’s about to cry.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="dirk">DIRK: You know, I don’t give a shit that you woke me up or that you smacked me. </span><br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: no u idiot</span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>Roxy fumbles for the remote and turns off the TV. She sighs and rubs her face in her hands.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">ROXY: oof<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: sorry that spooked me a lil<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: lol im okay just buzzed<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: its not the alcohol i promise<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: ik u dont “believe in substances”<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: that second one got me tho fr<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: yea i better go tf to bed rn<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: Wow. Feeling like kind of a dick for letting you watch a movie alone that is definitely going on the “things that should never have been marketed” shelf.<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: And I guess how that affected your psyche.<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: Not cool of me.<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: Please do get some sleep.<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: Goodnight.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
  </span>
</p><p>At 3AM, Roxy and Dirk go their separate ways. Roxy lays awake on her bed thinking about the things Dirk has told her. When she thought about it, it was all pretty scary, them both going against time and the fate of the world, but they would do it. It was in their blood.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk"></span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>In the morning, Roxy wakes up with a headache, which isn’t unusual considering her lifestyle, but this one is different. New Year's. Dirk. The plan. And her heart began to palpitate again. She doesn’t wait one second before rushing downstairs into the kitchen to quickly down something when- THUD.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk"></span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">ROXY: wat</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk"></span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>She pushes herself away from the sudden contact and sees Dirk Strider, not an alien friend. Human. </p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk"></span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: How’s it going?<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: oh its you<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: You don’t look happy to see me.<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: wym im ecstatic<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: wow am i tired what i mean to say is<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: i am happy to see you dirk</span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk"></span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>He’s not wearing pajamas like she is. That’s a little embarrassing.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk"></span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">ROXY: what are u doing<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: I’m making my way to the microwave to cook these fish because I’m hungry.<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: fish??<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: Yes, Roxy. Only the best source of protein on this drowning planet.<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: what about eggs?<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: Overrated.<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: whered u get fish from i don’t have fish<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: I brought them from the ocean.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk"></span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>Roxy had never had fish before. Even if most of the Earth had been surrounded by ocean from the melted ice caps, and her home was located in an area that had a nearby river as well as a waterfall (several, actually), and even if she has gone fishing several times, sometimes with her alien friends, she never tried eating the fish. It wasn’t like she could catch many, anyways. Dirk on the other hand, had long devised plans and tips from the internet to be able to catch as much fish as possible, it being his main source of food, and being in the middle of the ocean probably helped. </p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk"></span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>Dirk doesn’t always microwave his shit. Food always tastes better if it is actually cooked in a pan, on a stove (or a fire), but he’s hungry, so this will have to do. The microwave beeps. Dirk takes the plate of steaming fish and places it on the table in front of where Roxy has plopped herself down, drinking a glass of milk.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk"></span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">ROXY: those fishies lookin good<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: way better than any of the ones ive caught before<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: If you want the best of the best, the ocean’s where it’s at.<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: You have to try this.<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: dam dont mind if i do<br/>
</span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk"></span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>Roxy takes a piece and nods in approval.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">ROXY: hey dick<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: shit hold on<br/>
</span></span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>Roxy swallows the fish.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">ROXY: dirk<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: did u know<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: ur so cool</span></span></span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy"></span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p> Dirk doesn’t know what to do with the things she told him sometimes, because he knew that giving her what she wanted was not possible. </p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy"></span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>In a different timeline,</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy"></span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: I feel like in a way you can destroy somebody with effusive praise.<br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: Or maybe I'm just projecting how I would feel about that kind of intense positivity coming at me. I dunno.</span></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy"></span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>Despite the struggles that Roxy had to face most days of her life before Dirk came in, she was doing more than great now. Dirk was such a big help that she wouldn't want to even think of how he did it because it would only make her think about him more than she already did. She was just forever grateful he was there.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy"></span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>Dirk sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, bringing his glasses up in the process. She watched him carefully, her smile fading in suspense that he was going to start a conversation on something she was not in the mood to have.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy"></span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: Roxy, can you stop doing this.<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: this<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: this what<br/>
</span></span></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy"></span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>Dirk’s eyes flicker behind his shades.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk">DIRK: I don’t take compliments well. From you. I’ve gotten them before from Jake and Jane, but with you it’s different. I don’t-</span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>He pauses, feeling especially malicious for no good reason other than unmitigated selfishness.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: What do you want from me?</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>Roxy stares at him, the palms of her hands sweating. He knows what she wants. Why did he ask that?</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">ROXY: i dont want to have this conversation dirk<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: i really dont</span></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>She watches him take his glasses off- the ones he never takes off. It’s like seeing a ghost; the sight of his orange eyes.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>She tries not to stare. Her mind is suddenly fogged and all she can think of is orange. The orange that deeply resonated from eyes that had that abnormal tone like hers did; unlike their other friends. She found them more beautiful than all the eyes she had ever seen. </p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>When he clears his throat, she realizes she had been staring too long.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">ROXY: dont do this dirk</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>He curses under his breath. </p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: No, you’re right. I’m being an ass.<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: I’m sorry.</span></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>He put his shades back on.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
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                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: I will drop the topic this time. We are going to have to get back to it eventually. There is nothing worse than letting unspoken feelings fester. I wouldn’t want you to go through that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>She had wanted to kiss him. She really had. She thought she loved him so much. But what if that feeling was only because he was the only one left to love? And she could never have him. Why did he do this to her?</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="roxy">ROXY: can i kiss u</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>A moment of silence. Her mind continues to echo the words that came out of her. She doesn’t know if that’s what she wanted to say. Why did she say that?</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: You don’t want to do that, Roxy.<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: dont tell me what i want and dont want<br/>
<span class="dirk">DIRK: But is that really what you want?<br/>
<span class="roxy">ROXY: ...</span></span></span></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>Is it?? How is this boy making her question herself about this, when it has been evident to her for months that does in fact love him. She wants to be allowed to love him, and she wants to be allowed to have him love her back. Is that so selfish? Is that too much to ask? fuck you dirk strider, she thinks, dont tell me who i should love.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>But he can’t love her back. It’s nothing he has done, it’s just who he is. Not like that. But she… She wants to go back to being a refusing her identity, but she also wants to hug him and thank him for everything he has done. It’s driving her crazy.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
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                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: That’s not how the brain works.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
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          <span class="roxy">
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                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
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                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
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                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>He had told her once.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: You can’t change who you are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
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                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
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                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
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                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>It is torture.</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: You’ve done so many things for me and you forget about them. You hold back your thoughts and feelings and put on a disguise for me. I know that you like me, Roxy, I’ve known even before you told me. But you don’t have to do whatever it is you are doing right now. This is for your own good, so think about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: I think you’re amazing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>He keeps doing it. Bringing her back. It is a confession; not a romantic one, but one nonetheless. </p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
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                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
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                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: It's the easy way to confess. Not coming up with something amazing and it has the same effect. The only thing you're trying to have across is that you like the other person and when you say so, the only thing they care about is the fact that you do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">DIRK: I care about you, Roxy. I care that you like me. I appreciate your admiration, but at the same time...</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span>
In a different timeline,
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">TT: But I still think confessions like that can change stuff between people. Like the way they act around each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="dirk">
    <span class="roxy">
      <span class="roxy">
        <span class="roxy">
          <span class="roxy">
            <span class="roxy">
              <span class="roxy">
                <span class="roxy">
                  <span class="dirk">
                    <span class="dirk">
                      <span class="dirk">
                        <span class="dirk">
                          <span class="dirk">
                            <span class="roxy">
                              <span class="roxy">
                                <span class="roxy">
                                  <span class="roxy">
                                    <span class="roxy">
                                      <span class="dirk"></span>
                                    </span>
                                  </span>
                                </span>
                              </span>
                            </span>
                          </span>
                        </span>
                      </span>
                    </span>
                  </span>
                </span>
              </span>
            </span>
          </span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </span> 
</p><p>Roxy? Her eyes had been closed. Her pretty pink eyes. She didn't fight it. She couldn't. This was what she had wanted. Wasn't it?</p><p>
  
                                  
In a different timeline,</p><p>
<span class="dirk">TT: Could you just tell her,</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: I love her?</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: No wait!</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: I mean.</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: Not in that way though.</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: More like...</span><br/>
<span class="jane">GG: Dirk, I know what way you mean!</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: Ok. Good.</span><br/>
<span class="dirk">TT: Yeah.</span><br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Some of Dirk's dialogue here is from page 5835 of homestuck.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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